Sarah glanced around the darkened club and tried not to panic. She’d never felt quite so uncomfortable in her life, and she wasn’t even being spanked. Not yet, anyway, and perhaps not at all with the way she had chosen to dress.
She took a deep breath as she glanced at the scantily clad patrons happily flitting around her. She forced herself to examine their outfits, trying to reassure herself that she didn’t look any more ridiculous than they, trying to look as relaxed and comfortable as they did.
If anything, she felt even more exposed.
Her jumper itched, her skirt clung, and her knee-socks were too small. And she was hot, and it would only get worse as the night went on.
And she couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone was staring. They weren’t, the rational part of her knew that, knew that it would take far more than this to look out of place in this crowd.
Still, she felt decidedly uncomfortable. Aside from wearing a great deal more clothing than most of those around her- excepting, of course, for those in head-to-toe-rubber- she felt a new kind of vulnerability for advertising her fantasies so openly. Everyone knew what the schoolgirl uniform, particularly her own decidedly unsexy version, indicated. She was here to be spanked. Hard. Punishingly.
She’d told most of her friends this already, of course, but it was different discussing her desires dispassionately at a munch, or even in negotiation immediately prior to a spanking. It felt more controlled, not this blatant broadcasting.
And not this isolating.
Heather was supposed to be here, supposed to be dressed similarly, her friend and ally in this exhibition, but a sudden stomach bug had left Sarah to face this particular adventure alone.
She stood at the bar and surveyed the small crowd. In her anxiety, she had shown up far too early, earlier than anyone she knew well it seemed.
Just as she was debating pretending to take up smoking for the excursion it would allow, Gerard and Helen entered. Relieved, Sarah hurried over, and allowed herself to be embraced in a warm hug.
“Look at you!” Gerard proclaimed, holding her at arm’s length to examine her outfit. “Very traditional. Well done.”
“You should have told me!” Helen chimed in. “I haven’t worn my uniform in forever, we could have been classmates. Gerard would have worn his headmaster robes, we could have given him such trouble,” she added with a conspiratorial wink.
Sarah gave her first genuine smile of the evening and began to relax. It would be ok.
“Bench is free,” Gerard mused. “Shall we?”
Helen and Sarah cheerily followed him over, as if unaware of the trap they were walking into. No sooner had Gerard set down his bag then he firmly toppled Helen over the bench, raised her skirt, and landed a hearty swat on her behind. Helen squealed, as if surprised, drawing smiles from both Gerard and Sarah.
Sarah settled against the wall as Gerard went about giving his wife a sound, sensual spanking. His swats were firm but interspersed with massaged and whispered somethings into her ear. It was a beautiful thing to behold, and Sarah smiled contentedly as she watched the couple play with the joy of children at a game decidedly adult in nature. She felt privileged that they had decided to share this part of their relationship publicly, that they felt comfortable displaying this aspect of their intimacy, that they were willing to model an example of a stable, loving, spanky relationship.
Before long, Gerard helped his wife stand, embracing her in a lingering hug before sending her off with a sweet kiss and a sharp swat. As Helen wandered blissfully off to the bar, Gerard turned to Sarah with a decidedly mischievous glint in his eye. “Next,” he invited.
Sarah grinned as she approached, allowing herself to be turned over just as Helen had, and treated to a similarly stinging experience. If she had been warm before, she was even warmer now as Gerard roasted her bottom and made her flinch and jump under his paddle. Sarah couldn’t have cared less, though, the experience was delicious, the pain perfect, Gerard’s steady hands helping her through the sharpest shocks, holding her firmly in place, keeping her present.
“Enough for now,” he told her softly as he helped her up and hugged her. “We have a long night ahead, can’t go beating the arse off ye all right away,” he told her, leaving no doubt that there would be as many additional rounds as the night allowed. Sarah grinned, returning his hug before stopping to readjust her socks, somewhat slumped from her wriggling. Gerard repacked his bag, hefted it to her shoulder, and led her back to the small grouping of chairs where Helen had found a few other friends to chat with as she awaited Gerard’s return. Sarah accepted both a glass of iced water (very gratefully) and a seat (somewhat less so), and listened somewhat distantly to the conversation until the lingering floaty feeling dissipated enough for her to participate more fully.
The crowd slowly dwindled until only one couple, deep in what appeared to be a fairly intense negotiation, and Gerard and Sarah remained.
“Looks like the bench is still free. Fancy another round?” Gerard offered, already moving toward the apparatus, knowing Sarah well enough to know she would enthusiastically agree.
This time Sarah climbed atop the thing, straddling the padded beam properly rather than just leaning over the side as she did before. It felt so much higher this way. Sarah wobbled a bit- begining to doubt her stability, but Gerard appeared at her side, a steady hand on her back holding her in place, a heavy something tapping her behind. Sarah grimaced in anticipation, and grunted as the first true swat fell. “What is that?” she asked.
“I’ll show you later,” Gerard told her playfully before striking her again, driving the question from Sarah’s mind. For now, the sensations would be more than sufficient. Sarah tried to relax into the spanking, a unique phenomenon that only Gerard seemed capable of helping her with. As much as it stung, as hard as he hit, Sarah felt no more than a fleeting moment of tension at the pain of each new stroke before it blended into the calming effect of the experience as a whole. All in all, the experience turned her legs jelly-like, which made dismounting the bench decidedly difficult. Gerard, to his credit, did try to stop her, telling her to be careful, to wait for his assistance. Sarah, in her daze, missed this caution and floated herself off the bench and into a clumsy sprawl on the floor. She was overcome with a fit of giggles, a fit that Gerard’s dismayed expression did nothing to abate.
“Come along,” he said with a laugh, helping her rise and walk back to the sofa with what little was left of her dignity. Sarah didn’t mind- such things were overrated anyway. At least her jumper had kept her from scraping the skin from her elbows, though, she reasoned, that really would complete the schoolgirl look.
When they rejoined the group, Sarah was delighted to see that Tom and Suzanne had also arrived. Suzanne greeted her gape-mouthed. “You look so adorable! Why didn’t you tell me you were going as a schoolgirl! I would have too, and Tom could have been our teacher, we could have had so much fun!”
Sarah smiled sheepishly. “I was a bit nervous about it,” she admitted, “wasn’t sure I would go through with it until the last minute.”
“Why would you be nervous?” Suzanne asked, continuing before Sarah could reply. “You have to wear this more often. Maybe you could come over to Tom’s with me some night? We sometimes have class, but it’s no fun when I’m the only student. You’d have to be a bit naughtier than you look, thought, no fun being good.” Sarah agreed heartily, delighted at the prospect.
“Oh-” Suzanne continued. “And you have to wear that to my party next week. Brian is coming- have you met him yet? You two will get on wonderfully, and he would love this.”
“Sure,” Sarah replied, not entirely sure what she was agreeing to, but trusting Suzanne’s judgement. Her new “sister” had yet to lead her astray, other than in the ways that sisters were expected to, of course. Suzanne had been great fun- both in getting her into trouble, and squirming next to her as they were spanked for whatever mayhem they had caused. It had been great fun, but, more than that, a great bonding experience.
“We’ll plan later,” Suzanne promised. In the meantime, have you played with Tom yet? Go have fun- I need a word with Gerard.” Sarah allowed herself to be pushed in Tom’s direction as he looked her up and down approvingly before leading her off to a quieter corner. Sarah beamed, unable to believe how well the evening was going.
Tom treated her to another of his softly delicious spankings, starting with swats that were more strokes than spanks before building the intensity until Sarah squirmed, stopping just before the point of unpleasantness to give her a quick hug and a whispered thank you. It was a brief encounter, but Sarah was floating as blissfully as ever as Tom led her back.
“Cute as a button!” Sarah heard someone call behind her. She turned to find Lisa smiling down at her, towering over her as she strode over in her.. . how could anyone walk in those things? Sarah marvelled as Lisa approached grinning. “All you’re missing is your school crest. I really should have worn mine as well. I could have been your prefect. . .”
Sarah smiled nodded non-committally. She’d seen Lisa play before, and, while intrigued, wasn’t sure she was ready for that level of intensity. Some day, though. . . Still, it was a relief to know that Lisa, too, approved of the outfit. Sarah was beginning to feel a bit silly about her earlier anxiety. Her friends knew her desires well, she should have known better than to think they would be put off- or even surprised- at her expressing them through her clothing in this manner.
It was one thing to simply be desired- though that had been exciting enough. It was something else to be desired for what she was, to be desired for something she had held dear and hidden.